


Washington Two-Step

by ellia



Category: NCIS
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Community: kink_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-30
Updated: 2009-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-04 00:44:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellia/pseuds/ellia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life in Washington is a complicated dance of politics and sex, to get by, Tony just has to remember the steps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Washington Two-Step

**Washington Two-Step**

 

Some days Tony hates working in Washington, the way politics and game playing are a way of life for the people in power. He misses being a regular cop sometimes, where he never had to worry about the secrets and manipulations that seem to rule everything here.

 

He learned this dance at his Father's knee, learned to lie and fake and bargain with the best of them. He hated every second, and so he'd run; from state to state and job to job, run so hard and so fast he's never taken the time to stop and breathe.

 

Then Gibbs came strolling into his life with a head slap and a job offer; and two months later there he is, NCIS' newest agent. At first it's easy to slip back into the role, to figure out who wants what, how to navigate those twisty corridors of power.

 

But after a while it starts to get to him, and he feels himself missing steps, blundering in when he should be exercising caution. Saying what he truly means, instead of what is needed to get the job done. Gibbs has been giving him that look, the one he's seen from all too many bosses, the one that says _Why the fuck did I hire you?_ Something has to give, and Tony knows it has to be him.

 

It isn't hard for him to find what he needs, a few subtle questions and hints gets him the name of a club that specialises in that kind of thing. Armani and attitude get him through the door, and from there it is just a different kind of dance.

 

On the surface it looks like any other upscale bar, wood panelling and subtle lighting, well trained staff ferrying drinks around; but the atmosphere is just slightly off. Here and there are faces that are easily recognisable; a junior Senator who has been making a name for himself, a Judge that Tony has testified before on more than one occasion, a certain General who'd gotten into a pissing match with Gibbs just last week. Not that Tony would say anything, in places like this discretion is everything, the military's _Don't ask, don't tell_, has nothing on the secrecy of the Washington elite.

 

He settles at the bar and orders a beer, sipping it slowly as he looks around, he wants to be sober for this, needs to be or it won't do any good. At first he thinks he is out of luck, as the few men that appeal to him don't seem interested. Then he locks eyes with a man lounging against a pillar across from him and he realises he's found what he's been looking for.

 

Tall, broad-shouldered and muscled he's exactly Tony's type. He lets his eyes drift slowly over the man's body, lingering at the crotch, before looking back up. He doesn't bother to hide the desire he feels, issuing an invitation with his body and his eyes, when he gets an equally heated look in return, he knows that his hunt is over.

 

A few minutes later and the man's sliding into the seat beside him, and Tony is accepting the offer of another beer he has no intention of drinking. Hands are shaken, the touch lingering just a little too long, the grip a little too firm to be acceptable anywhere but here. They don't bother exchanging names and, with the opening pleasantries out of the way, settle into negotiation disguised as small talk.

 

It's simple for Tony to let the other man take the lead; he lowers his eyes and lets his legs fall wider apart, he gasps when fingers trace a circle on his wrist, and groans when a strong hand grips his thigh. He always loves this part, the way the anticipation winds him tighter and tighter, 'til he can hardly breathe.

 

Another shift, and his companion is standing closer still, his erection pressing against Tony's leg. That's enough, Tony is done waiting, pitching his voice low, so he won't be overheard, he asks, "Are we doing this, or not?"

 

"Eager, are you…" The amusement in his voice is pushed away by the groan he makes when Tony palms his cock through his pants. "Fuck, not here, in the back."

 

Tony lets him pull his hand away, and can't hide a shiver, when those strong fingers contract around his wrist. He is up off his stool, stumbling a little as he finds his feet, then they are moving fast, his conquest's grip never slackening as he hustles Tony across the bar, towards the private rooms.

 

Once they are hidden from view, Tony has only a moment to take in his new surroundings, before he's shoved up against a wall and savagely kissed. It is exactly what he needs and he feeels himself beginning to relax, the tension of the past few weeks slipping away as he succumbs to the other man's lust.

 

It's all heat and need, and he barely notices when his jacket's stripped away and left a crumpled heap on the floor. When the kiss is finally broken, he groans, wanting more, reaching up to bring their mouths back together. But his companion twists away, one hand reaching up to tug at Tony's hair, pulling his head back, arching his back, and exposing the long line of his neck.

 

His other hand is fumbling with the buttons on Tony's shirt, and Tony thinks he should be helping, but he can't concentrate on anything but the feeling of that talented mouth, sucking and biting at his neck. His chest's finally exposed, his shirt pushed off his shoulders, the still fastened cuffs tangled around his wrists. He's trapped and exposed, unable to do anything but stand there and accept the sensual torment.

 

The man finally releases his grip on Tony's hair, sliding his hand round to cup Tony's jaw for a second before pressing his fingers to Tony's mouth. He lets his mouth slip open and sucks eagerly, his tongue twisting and curling around the invading flesh. He feels cool air on his ass and realises that while he was distracted his companion has loosened his pants and shoved them down his legs.

 

He toes off his shoes and struggles to free his feet from the constricting material. When he's done he pulls away, chest heaving as he struggles to regain a little control. Another drugging kiss, and there's a hand cupping his ass, wet fingers circling his hole before dipping inside.

 

He feels rather than hears the groan from his lover as he realises that Tony's already slick and ready, "You really are a slut aren't you, getting yourself all slicked up and then coming out to find a cock to fill your hungry little hole. Don't even care who it is, do you? Just so long as you get fucked" There's nothing Tony can say to that, as it's exactly what he did.

 

"Asked you a question sweetheart, want to hear you say it." He stills his hands, holding Tony still, waiting for his answer.

 

"So I'm a slut, fuck you're here for the same thing I am, what does that make you?"

 

"Me, well I'm just horny, and I'm not the one spreading his legs for the first man he sees, hell it'd take a saint to turn down what you were offering, and no one ever accused me of sainthood."

 

Tony's just about to pull away again, because really he doesn't need this shit, but when he opens his mouth to speak, the man kisses him again. Gentler this time, slow and sweet, and Tony lets himself enjoy the simple touch.

 

They cross the room in an awkward tangle, unwilling to let each other go, and then Tony feels the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed he'd spotted when they first entered the room. Falling back onto soft cotton sheets, he lets down the last of his masks and just surrenders to what will come.

 

It's only when he tries to reach up and pull his lover closer that he realises that his arms are still trapped in his shirt, pinned tightly to his sides. "My hands, want to touch you," his voice is thick with desire, and it takes the other man a minute to realise what he's saying.

 

"Look at you, all tied up, like you're a present just for me." Tony hears the amusement in his voice and realises he isn't getting free any time soon. Then his legs are pushed up and back, and those tormenting fingers are slipping back inside. Twisting and rubbing, stretching him open making him ready for more.

 

He wants more, needs more, but can't catch his breath long enough to ask for it, so he settles for pushing hard against his lovers hand, fucking himself on those teasing fingers. He's not bothering to conceal his desperation, and he groans with relief, when he hears the soft sound of a zipper being drawn down, then the crinkle of a condom wrapper being opened. He watches with hooded eyes, as the man smoothes the rubber over his cock with shaking hands, it's a relief to realise that he isn't the only one affected by what they're doing.

 

The man doesn't bother getting undressed, just shoves his pants down his hips enough to expose a thick cock, and then he's settling between Tony's thighs. He pulls his fingers free, grips Tony's thigh, manoeuvring his leg up and out, then he's pushing inside.

 

He doesn't give Tony any time to adjust, setting up a pounding rhythm that has Tony writhing underneath him. It's hard and fast, and the best thing Tony's felt in months, he's shoving back, wrapping his legs round his lovers waist, digging his heels into the small of his back. Urging him on, wanting him deeper and harder, loving the way he's being taken and used.

 

Then his lover shifts just a little, and the angle changes, now his cock is hitting Tony's prostate every thrust, it's more then Tony can stand, and he's shameless in his need. "Please, more, need it, touch me, god so good, please, fuck me, harder, need it, please, please, please."

 

He doesn't care what he sounds like, just knows he needs to come, and with his hands still trapped, he can't do anything about it. His lover finally takes pity on him, grasping his cock, jacking him with steady strokes. Tony's almost there and, when his lover lowers his head, and takes his lips in another punishing kiss, it's all over.

 

His body arches and stiffens, a strangled scream is swallowed by his lover's mouth, and he's coming in hard spurts, before sagging back down on the bed. He's fucked out and exhausted, and it takes his partner only a few more thrusts to follow him over the edge.

 

For a few minutes he's blanketed by a heavy weight. The only sound in the room, their rasping breaths as they both try to recover their equilibrium. All to soon it's over, his lover's pulling his softened cock from Tony's ass, and he has to bite his lip to hide the small hiss of pain that causes.

 

Rolling over, he twists his hands enough that he can finally get his arms free of his shirt, sighing with relief as he flexes his aching shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as the other man opens a door at the back of the room. He hears running water, then a toilet being flushed, and when the man comes back in, he's fully dressed, zipped up and ready to go.

 

He drops a damp cloth beside Tony on the bed, and he supposes he should be grateful for that small courtesy, but he wishes the guy hadn't bothered. They both got what they wanted, now he just wants the man gone, so he can start putting himself back together.

 

He can feel the man staring at his still naked body, but keeps his eyes averted, this wasn't a date, and he isn't interested in making conversation now that the fun part of the evening is over. He stiffens when a hand strokes over the bite mark on his neck, and shifts his body so that the man doesn't try it again.

 

But then there's only a quiet voice saying, "Thank you sweetheart," and soft footfalls heading across the room, before he finally hears the door open and close. He cleans himself up in the small bathroom, frowning at the marks on his neck. However good it felt he shouldn't have allowed that, now he's going to be stuck wearing turtlenecks until they fade from sight.

 

He's pulling his jacket on when he spots the business card on the table, next to a glass of scotch. He picks up the glass, swirling the amber liquid round, taking a sip as he tries to decide what to do. Staring down at the small square of cardboard, he wonders why the man left it for him; this isn't that kind of place.

 

People come here to get off safely and discretely, the rules are that what happens in the club is never mentioned beyond these walls. Even if you find yourself face to face with the guy who fucked you stupid, you're supposed to smile and pretend you've never met. Still it's a temptation, the man had been a good choice, he'd seemed to know exactly what Tony needed, how to touch him, how to drive him crazy.

 

Throwing back his head and swallowing the scotch, Tony makes his decision, and as he strides out of the club he crumples up the card and lets it drop to the floor. He'll be okay for a few weeks at least, and when he does need this again, he wants another anonymous body. Someone who'll give him what he needs, without asking awkward questions.

 

He's got enough to cope with at work, and now he's gotten this out of his system, he figures he'll be up to dealing with Gibbs again. They've got a meeting with some Pentagon official in the morning, and Tony's finally got an idea of how to play the guy.

 

Maybe if he gets the steps right this time, he'll not have to suffer through Gibbs' disappointed glares, and the longer he can go without screwing up, the longer it'll be before he needs to come back here. Besides, he's never been anyone's sweetheart and he's damned if he's going to start now, no matter how good the man made him feel.


End file.
